


Unobstructed Views

by whovianmuse



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Episode: s06e07 A Good Man Goes to War, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For a moment, he believes that all of those nights he had spent holed up in his room, restless screams ripping from his throat upon waking from terrible dreams about the woman he loves more than anything in this entire universe, a constant crease set in his brow from incessant worrying, calculating the exact moment of her capture, muttering promises for her rescue and hoping that wherever she was, she would hear him, because he had wanted so badly to believe that the two of them were connected in such a way, for a moment he believes that all of his torment is worth it just to see her smile again.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unobstructed Views

**Author's Note:**

> The title was inspired by the song _Unobstructed Views_ by Death Cab For Cutie.
> 
> _There's no eye in the sky. Just our love. No unobstructed views. No perfect truths. Just our love. And there's no verse. No monument of words for my love. For they can't hold all I know about my love._   
>  **—Unobstructed Views (Death Cab For Cutie)**

            The first thought that enters his mind when he sees her again is how stunningly beautiful she looks. Amelia Pond stands at the window of her containment chamber, the tips of her fingers pressed against the glass, sweat clinging to her hair, white robes wrapped around her exhausted body, a brilliant smile lighting up her face at the sight of him.

            For a moment, he believes that all of those nights he had spent holed up in his room, restless screams ripping from his throat upon waking from terrible dreams about the woman he loves more than anything in this entire universe, a constant crease set in his brow from incessant worrying, calculating the exact moment of her capture, muttering promises for her rescue and hoping that wherever she was, she would hear him, because he had wanted so badly to believe that the two of them were connected in such a way, for a moment he believes that all of his torment is worth it just to see her smile again. 

 

* * *

 

             The second thought that swims across his mind is admiration for how very, very brave she’s been. Braver by far than he feels standing next to his companion, and her husband, and their newborn child. He doesn’t understand it at first, the twisting feeling in his heart when he looks upon her perfect little family, the one that he has no part of now. But he simply dismisses it, just like he always does, and forces a smile. When he hugs her for the first time in months, he can’t help but delight in the familiar, comfortable scent of his companion and the touch of her skin against his. As he’s holding Amy in his arms, he realizes just how much he’s missed her, and just how deep she’s woven herself underneath his skin. Every beat of his hearts, from the moment he had realized that she’d been taken from him, screamed her name.

            And he can’t even tell her exactly what she’s done to him, because she belongs to someone else. Because someone else had been there to fill the gap of her childhood between the Doctor’s absence and his return fourteen years too late. Because that same someone had remained loyal to her, had proved his love for her over and over again, valiantly, where the Doctor had, time after time, let her down and lied to her. Someone else had planted himself inside of her, had created life within and with her. His companion. His Amy. Although, he realizes, she was never his to begin with.

            It shouldn’t hurt him as much as it does, when from the very beginning, he knew that it was impossible. The others, Madame Vastra and Dorium Maldavar, tease him about his sheepish discomfort with the subject of Melody’s conception, when really, he’s sick with envy that she _is_ completely human, after all. For one small, magical moment, he had imagined himself a father again, and that his magnificent companion was his daughter’s mother. He believed that everything had fallen into place and that finally, after years of pain and torture and regret, he was allowed to be happy. How foolish he had been to imagine that he’d ever had a chance with her.

 

* * *

 

            The third thought that courses through his mind is the vision of Amy’s face as she backs away from him, the moment she realizes that her child has been captured and they’ve been deceived in the worst possible way. A sick sensation settles into the pit of his stomach, raging and convulsing, like he’d swallowed acid. There they stand, inches from one another and yet thousands of miles apart. If only he’d figured it out sooner, if only he’d been able to warn her before the child had collapsed into nothing more than flesh in her arms. 

            He knows he shouldn’t, but he blames himself entirely, and yet, he’d done everything in his power to rescue her. To save her daughter. To protect her husband in battle. Everything he’d done, he’d done for her, and now, she wants nothing to do with him. She won’t touch him. She won’t even look at him.

            He barely resists the urge to cry out as she turns away from, the woman he loves completely, desperately, so much so that he willingly smothered his affections for her to save her and her new family, to protect them, because all he wants is for her to be happy, even if it can’t ever be with him. As he stands there, swallowing anguish and sickness in his endless regret, he lets go of everything that reminds him of Amelia Pond.

            Every moment he’d concocted in his mind, every possibility of their lives together. Every kiss, every embrace, every touch and brush of skin against skin, every whispered string of words he would never be able to tell her, every blush and every smile that would never grace her beautiful face. Because she’s grown up, and moved on, and she doesn’t need her imaginary friend anymore. She’d never again wait for her Raggedy Doctor, but he’d spend the rest of eternity waiting for her to forgive him.


End file.
